


Healing

by Underestimated_amateur



Series: Honey Eyes And a Wolf's Heart [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Derek-centric, Everyone but Derek and Peter are only mentioned, Grief/Mourning, Little bit of angst, M/M, Major Character Injury, Moving On, Talk of Feelings, Werefox Stiles, mentions of Hale Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 08:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11870124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underestimated_amateur/pseuds/Underestimated_amateur
Summary: Derek pays a certain someone another visit.





	Healing

**Author's Note:**

> Derek is almost eighteen here.

Derek pays a certain someone another visit. 

 

He shuffles in his seat across from where his uncle is sat in his wheelchair. The chair isn't even mobile for him, it's so the nurses have a easy way of transporting him around. He can't move in it himself, he can't move at all. At first it freaked him out. There was a small period of time he had to stop coming altogether, be it by nerves or sheer guilt. 

Once or twice, all the negative emotions turned into anger and desperation. He had yelled at his uncle, let loose all of his bottled feelings and thoughts that had festered. 

_ “Wake up! Say something already!” _

_ “Why can't you move!? Why can't you heal!?” _

_ “I need you! I don't know what to do anymore!”  _

_ “We're the only ones left. Don't leave me like this!”  _

He had screamed and begged until he was escorted out with tears in his eyes. 

 

He had regretted his actions later. None of this is Peter's fault and it wasn't his own fault. They weren't to blame for what happened to their family. He has to tell himself that everyday. He never should've took his frustration out on his uncle. The man had suffered enough. 

Now he fills in the silence of Peter's room himself. The conversation are always one-sided, so he does his best to talk for the both of them. Mostly it's just trivial things; how school is, how the Stilinskis’ are, etc. He talks about what happened during the week. What Stiles was up to. Anything that randomly comes to mind. The nurses mentioned talking might help, though he has no idea how they figure that. 

When he wasn't talking, he did homework or simply read a book. Silent company is pleasant company too, Claudia had told him once when he asked for advice on what he could do. 

 

Today’s visit wasn't different from any others. 

“School was okay,” he throws out there. If the whole conversation is going to be him talking, it doesn't really matter how he begins it. “I have another game in a few weeks. Remember how I told you I finally joined the team?” 

He pauses, like he would if he were actually going to receive a real response. His gaze flickers down to the book he had brought with him that sits in his lap. Even if the visits are easier, talking to Peter is easier, it's still hard to look at him. 

“The Stilinskis’ are doing alright. John got a raise recently, did you know that?” He's not if he's mentioned that before. “I went shopping with Claudia yesterday. She let me drive the car there and back. I might get my license soon and I'm thinking about getting a job once I do.” 

He drums his fingers against the hardcover of his book. “Stiles brought Scott over last weekend. They roped me into playing hide and seek the whole day.” The little brat even spent the night. 

“Not much has happened lately,” he mumbles, opening his novel and flipping to the page he left off at. Conversation dies off there. Claudia had suggested he read to Peter, but he never does. It would feel too weird. The silent man sitting motionless before him isn't the Peter he's grown up with, but at the same time he is. And if he could talk, Derek imagines Peter would make a sarcastic remark about not being some snout nosed toddler that needs bedtime stories. So Derek kept his books to himself. 

He never stays too long, only an hour or two every Friday after school. He's in the middle of senior year and John made sure he understood how important school is. Every Sunday night they go out to eat, 'Family Night’ they call it. Tuesdays and Thursdays are practice days. Wednesdays he sees his therapist. He spends his Saturdays with Stiles. And no one ever wants to voluntarily do anything on a Monday. He's always busy this way, but he likes it like that. 

When he finishes the chapter he's on, he glances up at his uncle. He likes to think the man's healing, if just slowly. Maybe the scars and burns will be gone one day. One day he'll get out of the stupid wheelchair he's confined to and snark at Derek for not visiting enough or something. Even then, what about the wounds that don't show? Their bodies are made to heal, but their minds can't be fixed. If lycanthropy helped survivor's guilt and PTSD, Derek wouldn't have to give up his Wednesdays. Maybe they aren't so special. 

Then again, maybe that's what makes them human along with beast. 

“I wish it didn't happen,” he says, meeting Peter's dull eyes. “I wish they were still here. I miss them.” He takes a deep breath. “But they're gone, we can't get them back.” 

“I wish I–  _ we _ could find the ones who did this, but they're  _ gone.  _ And we can't find them anyway, no matter who we ask or where we look. Fucking bastards packed up and ran like  _ cowards _ .” 

With bile rising in the back of his mouth, he grits his teeth. “I want them to pay,” he whispers it, like it's a secret. “I want them all to  _ burn _ .” 

“Claudia wouldn't. She– she doesn't believe that killing anyone is okay, no matter how bad the person. 'Says more death isn't the answer, and I want to believe that. I do, but–” he gets choked up, has to swallow down the lump in his throat and catch his shaky breath. “But I can't. I can't see the good in people like that.” 

He looks down to his book again, running his thumb over the edge. “Claudia and John don't think they'll ever come back. The assholes probably think they killed us all. I thought so too, that they wouldn't come back, but lately… I've had this feeling I can't shake off, like I'm being watched. I can't tell if it's all in my head or not, but I just felt uneasy for weeks.” 

His eyes blink back up to his uncle. His shoulders slump, realizing he just poured his heart out to the one person who can't even reply. He closes his book and gets up. He should get home. “Try to get better, okay?” 

Before walking out the door, he turns, looking back at his uncle. He wants to hope, even if his head tells him it's pointless. “I'll see you later, Peter.” 

 

The broken man says nothing, does nothing. So Derek leaves, missing the flicker of crimson glint in his uncle's eyes. 

  
  
  


.

**Author's Note:**

> This is short I know. More to come tomorrow though! 
> 
> Tell me what you think!


End file.
